Every family has at least one picky eater.  It could be someone who doesn’t eat anything their mom didn’t make (Mike baby, you know that’s you), or someone who doesn’t eat meat, or someone who doesn’t like dishes containing any green food (D., I’m talking to you, lol!  And yes, I still love you).  You get the idea.  I really can’t throw stones though, since at one point as a teenager I decided I didn’t like meat and went through about a six month vegetarian phase.  But my mom wasn’t one to cater to my whims; every dinner she made a meal consisting of a protein (some kind of meat or on the off chance eggs), a complex carb (usually rice, which for some crazy reason I detested until about three years ago), and a veggie (most likely something green).  And if I didn’t want to eat the meat and carb out of sheer pickiness, it wasn’t her fault.  (In our house there were no such frivolities as tofu (in any form), lentil patties, or even mushroom burgers.  And of course my mom was right not to cater to my pickiness, that just “feeds” the picky palate, so to speak…and of course my pickiness subsided when I realized just how much I missed roast chicken or grilled steak.)…